


Smoking Circuts

by fabric_hands



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Bar, Drinking, Other, Smoking, Wholesome, Y’all I love Nebula okay, bartender!reader, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabric_hands/pseuds/fabric_hands
Summary: With a flourish, you poured the alcohol into a glass and slid it down to the end of the bar.She caught it in her metal hand, downed it with no hesitation, and slammed it on the countertop. The glass shattered immediately upon intact. She did not flinch.You had never been more attracted to anyone in your life.ORAsking the cyborg girl in a bar you work at if she has a light yields fantastic results.





	Smoking Circuts

The darkness is broken by a few dim lights from the ceiling. There are low murmurs from around you. It’s calm. Not a lot of customers tonight. The smoky space bar that you’re working in should be a lot more smokier. You would love to help on that front by lighting up, but turns out, you don’t have a light.

Of course, you’re the bartender, but it’s not like your boss would care either way. Half the things that have happened under this roof have been illegal, and you’ve always been cautioned to turn a blind eye. Hell, you yourself have done worse. Ravengers and whatnot did as well, they were regulars. Hence the blind eye. They would be dealing their wares, doing whatever it was they did. They did far worse things than taking a smoke break.

You ticked your tongue in disappointment, patting down your pockets. No lighter. Not even a little blaster you could graze the paper with.

You were getting a little antsy, tapping your foot. You got antsy anyway when there wasn’t much to do, so you would take a dishrag and polish out the cups. Even if they were clean. You picked up that it was strange to just see a barkeep, standing there with nothing to do, so you always busied yourself. But now, you were just looking around, cigarette box in hand.

Down the end of the bar was a Luphmoid. You could spit them from a mile away, with their shaved heads and blue skin. Hominid, too.

This one was different, though.

You were used to seeing familiar faces, some regulars that would pop in, get drunk, pop out. That was the formula. You couldn’t work on Knowhere without learning the patterns of the predictable creeps. But a new factor just got added into the equation, and you liked this solution far more than any of the others you had seen.

Her arm glinted silver, catching the light. It was entirely metallic. You could only see the side of her head, but you assumed it didn’t stop there. She was also wearing red leather— a ravager. She wasn’t with the usual crew, though. Yondu and the others. Maybe a new recruit, or a lone wolf.

Either way, she was gorgeous.

You whistled, low.

She had been looking down at her hand, resting on the bar top. But she must have heard you, because she turned her  head to look in your direction.

You found yourself looking away, for some reason. This didn’t happen often. You worked at a bar, so of course you were acquainted with the awkward drunk or unruly customer. But still, you avoided her steely gaze.

Maybe it was different because this woman was fully sober. 

You shivered.

Looking back at the hand with the cigarettes, you sighed. You needed a smoke, bad, or else you would chew through your lip. There wasn’t anyone around you could ask, other than the glaring Luphomid.

Again, you sighed. Worth a shot.

”Hey.” You piped up, hardening your confidence.

She faced back at you, and you noticed how incredibly dark her eyes were. They were black holes, swallowing stars.

“Got a light?”

Hesitating, her eyes flickered up and down your body. “Got any booze?”

”That I do.” Apt enough response. “Anything specific?”

She exhaled. “Something to liven me up.”

”Elixer of life. Coming up.” 

You turned behind you, pulling out some good Cotari booze. You wanted to curry some favor with her, so you brought some top shelf stuff. You just hoped she was good for it.

With a flourish, you poured the alcohol into a glass and slid it down to the end of the bar.

She caught it in her metal hand, downed it with no hesitation, and slammed it on the countertop. The glass shattered immediately upon intact. She did not flinch.

You had never been more attracted to anyone in your life.

”I assume you enjoyed it?” You eyes the broken glass stuck in her metal palm.

She exhaled again, satisfied. “Yeah.” Her voice was thick.

You sighed and walked over, rag in hand, cigarette box in the other. Putting down the box, you tried to put the loose shards in the rag.

”I’ll just add that to your bill.” You mumbled.

”Fair enough.”

”Rough week?” 

Her voice became teasing and throaty. “How could you tell?”

”You slammed that,” you chuckled. “In more ways than one.”

“Ravengers aren’t easy boys to deal with.” She replied.

You noticed that she had a robotic lilt in her voice, as if it were filtered through audio software. It had a shudder to it, and that shudder seemed to pass from the empty air between her lips to your body, causing your hands to shake. Alluring, like a siren.

”Figured.” You had swept up all the glass you could see. “Have a couple that come here. Regulars.”

”I imagine they’re a handful.”

”If you’ve only seen them sober, you can’t imagine them drunk.”

That got a chuckle out of her, and you felt like your body was doused in all the alcohol on the walls and lit on fire.

Actually— that reminded you.

”Maybe I could lift the glass from your bill,” you offered. “If you could get me that light.”

She realized you were referring to your cigarettes, and she eyed your box. “Can’t say I have one.”

You groaned under your breath. “Damn.”

She opened up her robotic palm and emptied some more shards into the rag. “Sorry.”

”It’s fine. I just get a little... fidgety.”

”I understand.” 

You looked up a her. “Yeah?”

She gestured for another glass. You complied.

”Don’t go breaking it this time.” You warned her, as you threw away the rag with the shards in it.

”I’m all warmed up.” She said. “You don’t have to worry.”

You smiled, pouring her another glass and setting it in front of her. Her fingers grazed yours as she took the glass and let the booze slide down her throat. She put it down normally this time.

The glass now empty, you took it in your hands and began to clean it out with a fresh rag.

You nodded to her. “You were saying?”

”I smoke too.” She said, smooth and even.

”Yeah?”

”Only when my circuts are failing.” She smirked.

You laughed at that one. “I imagine you get kinda jittery too, when that happens.”

”Quite.”

The two of you laughed for a little bit at that. 

You sat down on a stool behind the counter and sighed, looking around. You pulled out the Cotari booze bottle again. “Man,” you muttered. “There is no one here tonight.”

”Is it usually more full?”

”With other Ravagers, mostly. Yeah. Or management.” You stuck out your tongue.

”I won’t tell if you have a few sips.”

You grinned at that, and popped the bottle top off, taking a swig directly from the bottle. It burned, but in a good way. “Good!” You breathed, taking the bottle from your lips. “Because this stuff is expensive, and I don’t want to pay for it.”

She smirked, but in a very restrained way. Cool. Even. She acted as if she had some kind of plan, and she was predicting your every move. Like ever interaction was a chess move on which you had fallen right into a trap.

You liked it.

“Bummer about the light,” You sighed deeply. “You sure I can’t find a loose wire or anything? Use that?”

”If you did that,” she said, voice low. “Then _you_ would need to get a new arm.”

Quiet. Then you nodded slowly and took another swig. “Yeah,” your squinted through the burning. “Sounds reasonable.”

The stranger took the bottle from your hand and downed a little more herself. She wiped her lip with her sleeve and groaned a little at the taste.

”We’re drinking together,” you smiled. “Quite heavily. And I don’t even know your name.”

”Are you this friendly with all your customers?” She asked evenly.

”Just the intimidating ones.” You replied, your confidence boosted a little by the drink. “And the pretty ones.”

”I’d rather take the former.” Her eyes flickered up and down you again.

You shrugged. “Let’s call it even. Both.”

”Both?” She raised her eyebrows.

”Both. I like the scary ones.” You giggled.

Quiet for a moment. You realize how hard you have to strain through the darkness to see we face clearly.

”Nebula.” She says.

”Hm?”

”My name is Nebula.” She repeats.

You smile. “Great to drink with you, Nebula. I’m Y/N.”

Holding out a hand for her to shake, she look at it apprehensively. Then, with her metallic hand, she reached out and held it.  Instantly, you felt a sharp pain in your palm and pulled back, alarmed.

”Damn!” You hissed, dropping the bottle on the countertop (it remained intact, thankfully) and held your wrist. There was a small glass shard stuck in your hand, and blood was beginning to surface.

”Shit.” Nebula whispered, and grabbed the rag from her previous empty cup. She wrapped it around her hand and took yours in her other free one. She went to go pick out the glass piece as you bit your lip in pain.

Eventually, she freed your hand and you sighed. A new injury.

You bit your lip again, surveying the small wound that was still bleeding. “Damn.” You repeated.

”Sorry about that.” Nebula sighed.

”It’s fine, not your fault.” You replied. “I assume you can’t feel anything on there, huh?” You playfully knocked your fist on the metal of her arm.

”...you’re right.” She said.

Once more, she took your hand and began to wrap the rag around it in a makeshift bandage. She tied it off at the end, and even when she took her hands away, you couldn’t stop thinking about the warm and hold contrast between her opposing fingertips.

”It’s really okay.” You assured her. “I’m fine.”

”I know. I’m not worried.” She assured you right back.

”Aren’t you, though?” You smiled.

”You’re fine.”

”Oh, am I just some barkeep?” You teased.

”You can’t hand me more booze if you’ve injured your hand.” Her eyes remained on the countertop, and she scratched the back of her neck.

You laughed at that. She really was too stoic to talk about her feelings.

”Well, Nebula.” You got her attention. “This has been one of my better nights on shift.”

”You must have some bad days.”

A smile. Your heart fluttered.

”Yeah, well.” You looked away, shrugging. “Broken glasses, tobacco withdrawal, and an impaled hand aren’t the worst things that could happen to me.”

“All because I couldn’t get you a light.”

”And because you cut open my hand.”

You picked up another glass, and poured yourselves one final drink of the night. You handed one to her, and took one for yourself.

”Cheers to smoke and glass.”

She lifted her cup. “Smoke and glass.”

Clink. Drink.


End file.
